


Weirdly sexual snippets involving Father John Misty (Or The Things I Think About At Night)

by orphan_account



Category: Father John Misty (Musician)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Awkward Sexual Situations, F/M, Humor, Sexual Humor, Slice of Life, inspired by twitter user @fjmerotica
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 17:09:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16685689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: i was inspired by the twitter user @fjmerotica, and then i wrote stuff no one should read. but im putting it out there. also the character is implied to be his wife i make mention of the nancy from now on music video which starred her but i just feel weird doing anything other than saying this. so...whatever. you also might need to be in pretty deep to catch my references. Frankly I dont even understand where the whole ghee/clarified butter thing came from but that twitter has mentioned it a couple of times so i included it too for the hell of it. i think im way more clever and funny than i actually am so really all of this is for me and i highly doubt anyone will actually read it.





	Weirdly sexual snippets involving Father John Misty (Or The Things I Think About At Night)

It's three years later and Josh still occasionally smashes my china together screaming that he can do whatever the fuck he wants before asking what I want from Starbucks.  
Lately, if I want to cum, or as Josh has taken to calling it: reach enlightenment, I have to shout “Save me White Jesus!” and that just gets the ball rolling for the both of us.  
I come home to find Josh naked under one of his many silk robes with FJM embroidered on the left breast, with one foot hiked on top of the antique trunk at the foot of the bed, and a who me look on his face. It's gonna be a long night.  
Sometimes when making love Josh likes to play all of his albums simultaneously, giving him a significant ego boost and me a headache.  
Some nights foreplay consists solely of popping each other's pimples, other nights it's Innocence by Misty and wine, on the rare occasion it's eating ice-cream and showering each other with compliments.  
Josh stands in the kitchen, greasy hair pulled back into a ponytail. He's giving a sheepish grin as he poses in a dingy looking wedding dress that is not mine. He pulls out another one from behind his back. “Don't worry, I got you one too.” God, I love him.  
He opens the hearse door for me. What a gentleman. As I get in I see him buckle his seat belt and hold a hand out towards me. Gotta love date night.  
A low catlike wail comes from the bedroom as I step into our home. I sneak into the kitchen to fix a cup of coffee, trying my hardest to be as silent as I can. No loud noises while Josh is writing or someone sleeps on the couch.  
I sit on the couch, a glass of wine in one hand, blazer in the other. Watching as Josh sashays, ditty bops and prances about. I wish he'd sit down.  
In bed, Josh is a goddamned animal. Not a very fast or violent animal. Not the typical animal in bed. Maybe a tortoise. Slow, heavy, and grunting nonstop.  
I step in and shut the door behind myself around four in the afternoon. Josh is still on the couch where I left him when I went out this morning. I'm about to tell him about what a great deal on clarified butter I got when I realize he's working himself into a divine frenzy over the Nancy From Now On music video. Yeah, I'm just going to put it away and tell him later.  
Morning sex is common with Josh. Sometimes it's nice, but sometimes I just want to enjoy my pancakes in peace goddamnit.  
Today was spent on the couch, one of Josh's old obscure records on the stereo, some cheesy old flick on tv, and acid-laced beer. Rainy days are the best.  
Josh and I had a fight last night, which inevitably lead some hot, passionate, hate sex, which was all fine and good until I instinctively called Josh by his real name and not his stage name. At that point, all I got in return was a disgruntled huff and left all alone in front of the fireplace.  
It's seven in the morning and Josh woke me up trying to get me to lick the whipped cream off his beard. I could only laugh.  
Today Josh got the idea to strip to Leaving L.A. for me, it took forever, and I almost fell asleep but he was satisfied and we got to fuck to A Bigger Paper Bag. So win-win.  
Tonight I came home to Josh sitting pensive, and quiet in his handmade driftwood armchair. With one arm resting on the other, and his fist under his chin he asked me what love was.  
I was reading on the couch when Josh stumbles in from God knows where. He laughs and smiles as he slinks to the bedroom, and I'm about to follow when he turns around in the doorway. With one hand pointing at me and the other already down his pants he says “I just need to be alone right now.” in an extremely forlorn voice.  
Lazy mornings are pretty great. It's early fall, cloudy, foggy, and cool outside. I'm about to doze off again when Josh busts in the room. It's not raining outside but he's drenched somehow. He starts begging me to come outside with him.  
I was in the middle of riding Josh when he gave me a goofy grin and a wink and said: “When you're smiling and astride me.”. That's all it took to push me over the edge.  
I spent a good hour yesterday, searching in and around the house for Josh. Eventually, I found him in the back forty digging holes. He claims they're for us to be buried in. We renewed our memberships for the six feet under club that night  
It's almost two in the morning when Josh finally removes himself from my lap. He'd been sitting on me since midnight, just stroking my hair and loving on me in general. He gets weird when he's drunk.  
One night Josh proposed an idea. Not sex, just touching ourselves...Together. Which, fine by me, I don't need him to get off anyway. But the fact that he didn't look at me the entire time was a little unsettling.  
This afternoon Josh approached me with a list of possible sayings for his headstone. We agreed to disagree and I let him pick whatever he wanted. He preferred "Was God's Favorite Customer." I thought they were all self-servicing and absurd. But it's his grave.  
Josh bought a cowboy hat recently. He's insisted on wearing while we have sex. I've luckily been able to talk him out of putting on Pure Country during though.  
I come home and find Josh scurrying around the living room, all our blankets are draped and pinched around. When I asked him what he was doing his only response was to throw his arms in a presenting manner and say “Sex Cave."  
Valentine's Day with Josh is generally pretty nice. He's such a sweetheart. We spent the day lazing about the house, and he helped cooked dinner. A day well spent over all.


End file.
